


Calm Me Down

by orphan_account



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Gen, Intrusive Thoughts, Little My is a good big sister, Panic Attacks, Sensory Overload, Sniff and Snorkmaiden are just kinda there, Snusmumriken | Snufkin Has a Tail, let me project in peace, what are betas??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 01:23:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18955072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In which Snufkin can't bring himself to be mean and ends up having a breakdown because of it.





	Calm Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> My first Moomin fic posted and of COURSE I projected onto Snufkin.
> 
> Anyway, this is mainly what my experience with frequent sensory overload is, luckily my episodes are not always this bad, maybe like once every few months I get a bad one but other times it's small. I'm not saying that this is what EVERYONE experiences, it's just what I do. 
> 
> Enjoy, I guess?

Sometimes the noise was a bit too much for Snufkin. He wouldn't say it was problem enough to get help for it (of course, that wasn't saying very much, as Snufkins were always a stubborn sort), nor tell those he met on his travels. That had changed only slightly once he found a home in Moominvalley. Being around the same creatures most of the year made it difficult, but still bearable for the most part.

To the other residents of the valley, he would cite his Mumrik nature to explain his adventuring and preference for solitude, and so far only his half-sister had seen through that fib. Little My knew well that the noise could be too much (and Snufkin almost suspected she had the same problem) and that blaming it on the fact that he was a vagabond by blood was just a ruse to avoid explaining the predicament.

Today was one such day where he _needed_ to get away - he could tell by the restlessness of his tail against his leg, and his apparent irritability towards even a fish splashing when he didn't expect. Snufkin couldn't, however. He had promised Moomintroll an adventure, and if he cancelled for a fourth time he feared his friend would go without him and end up hurt. And so, he forced himself to get up from the bank, ensure his tail was wrapped about his waist securely and wouldn't get in the way, take a deep breath and await him at the middle of the bridge.

To his dismay, Moomintroll was trailed by Little My, Snorkmaiden, and Sniff. He gave a stiff smile to the three of them, ignoring his oncoming headache. "I see you have some shadows, Moomintroll."

"Oh, I hoped you wouldn't mind if they came along," his friend said excitedly, clapping his paws together. "Sniff said he wanted to look for rare things, and Snorkmaiden wanted to see the flowers!"

"And I just wanted to get out of the house," Little My finished, her hands settling over her hips in their usual way. If she noticed Snufkin's distaste in the unexpected company, she didn't say anything.

"I don't mind at all," the mumrik lied, slipping a hand into his pocket to grip onto his harmonica. "We ought to get going. It's very pretty at noon, you see, and I'd like to show you."

He led the trio off the bridge, pausing to collect his pack before continuing along the stream. His hand stayed clenched around his harmonica, the cool metal helping only a bit to get his mind off the chatter behind. Snorkmaiden ranting to Moomintroll about something he couldn't keep track of. Sniff saying he could sell something or wondering what monsters would be ahead. He hated the hyperawarness.

He was so focused on not focusing that he didn't realize his sister had been calling him until she nudged him in the knee, making him flinch. The unspoken question was loud and clear in her narrowed eyes. "Sorry, My. Were you saying something?"

"You could have just told him, you know." Anyone else would say she was being accusatory, but Snufkin could hear concern.

"I've told him three times already. I don't want him to- ow!"

"You know that's not what I meant," she asserted, releasing the end of his tail from her grip. "You're too nice for your own good."

Perhaps that was true. But he wouldn't admit it. He sighed, rubbing his temple and squeezing the harmonica. "I will tell him."

"Once you find an explanation," she followed with a sneer. "Things don't always have explanations, Snufkin. I would have thought you'd know that already."

He hated the unexpected and unexplained. He was supposed to be the wise one. He opened his mouth to answer, but the words caught in his throat, and Little My was already running ahead. So instead he simply stayed quiet, searching his other pocket for his pipe and pouch of happy things.

The hyperawarness was in full throttle now. Snufkin wanted to scream, cry, dive into the stream, _by the Groke where had he put his pipe?_ His steps must've sped up when he wasn't looking, because he could hear Moomintroll telling him to wait up. _Throttle him, throttle himself, throttle a_ _tree-_

He almost whimpered when he felt the smooth resined wood, but no sound came out, choked in his rapidly restricting lungs, _he needed matches now, needed to set the forest on fire_. And then he found himself running, running away from the trio, running from his friends' cries, running into the nothingness. He was crying now, fumbling with his pipe, needing a place to ground himself, _needing a place to ruin everything_.

Snufkin wailed, losing his footing in the leaf-covered ground, but he didn't care that he was on the ground, nor that he had released his pipe and it had gone flying. What he did care about was that he still heard the trio, all of them calling for him. Too loud, everything was too loud. So naturally, he screamed.

Little My was the first to find him, and thankfully had the mind to keep quiet. Snufkin was a sniveling mess, clutching his hair and sobbing, his hat strewn aside and tail whipping about endlessly. The little Mymble found his pipe, matches, and pouch, bringing them to her brother and pressing them lightly against his fingers as to not make the attack worse. She wished she could say she didn't understand the way he hastily grabbed them, his fingers shaking as he filled the bowl as fast as he could. As the others came nearer to their spot, she made her way to them, telling them to shut up and let the boy have space.

"But I don't understand! What could have made him bolt like that!?," Moomintroll fretted, clearly trying to find a way to get past Little My and to his hurting friend.

"That's for him to tell you. But not now," she insisted, before simply disappearing into the brush and leaving Moomintroll with nothing but questions.

* * *

 

Snorkmaiden and Sniff had long since left for Moominhouse by the time Little My emerged again, this time with a disheveled Snufkin following slowly behind. Moomintroll, having been too worried about his friend to simply leave, shot to his feet from the fallen log he was sitting on, pausing when he saw that the mumrik had his hat pulled over his face.

"You two need to talk," the little Mymble declared, once again disappearing, this time to leave. Snufkin looked ready to run again, clearly nervous, but stayed put and took a deep lungful of smoke.

For a long moment they stood in silence, until finally the mumrik sighed. "I don't know what's wrong with me." He lifted his head, peering out at the other with puffy eyes. When Moomintroll sat back down, patting the spot beside him, he gratefully took the invitation. He was in no shape to be standing yet.

"What do you mean, you don't know what's wrong?," he pressed gently, ears drooping slightly.

"I mean, I shouldn't...I should be normal. Normal doesn't include wanting to..." Snufkin's breath caught again. "...wanting to live in silence for days at a time. But even the silence is too much."

Gently, the moomin took his friend's hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Is this...a mumrik thing?"

"No," he responded, too quickly. "Mumriks are supposed to tolerate noise. I can't. Noise makes me want to punch anything and everything, makes me want to shut it up forever." He squeezed back, but didn't release. "It's too much. But I... can't explain why."

"That's okay. Not everything needs to be known." Another pause. "I shouldn't have brought them, should I?"

Guilt flooded Snufkin immediately, tears threatening to spill again. "I just wanted you to be happy."

"I would have been happy if you'd been honest, Snufkin. I mean...this is your health we're talking about! If you hadn't-" Moomintroll stopped himself, hesitating. "Have you gotten help for it?"

The mumrik couldn't bring himself to speak, so he settled with a shake of his head. Almost immediately, he was enveloped in a furry, warm hug.

"I want you happy too, Snufkin. I want you to feel comfortable saying no," the moomin muttered, softly smiling when he felt the hug reciprocated. "I can help you, when it gets overwhelming. Or, I'll try anyway." The other buried his face into his fur, tail curling to touch Moomintroll's own.

"Thank you. I'd like that."


End file.
